| The Ride by: V |
| I smiled at you from the backseat of your car. My grin reflected in your mirror and you looked away, embarrassed. Oh. Don't be. A lot of people do this. We stopped at a light and you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel, still not looking back at me. I could smell your nervousness. Your anxiety. Your lust. I smiled wider and spread my legs a little more, sliding my palms down the front of my thighs. You took a turn up ahead, bright lights in our view. Tall buildings with neon signs advertising things that people would be sucked into once they saw the commercial featuring the brilliant young man or the woman with the gorgeous breasts. I tilted to the side to be able to look upwards, up at the tall skyscrapers, to look up to where their tips fuck the clouds and the smog. When I was little I used to ride in cars and imagine what people were doing up there in those buildings. The ones where there are only one or two lights on each floor. I would imagine the tired ladies cleaning the carpets with their gigantic vacuums or the older men pouring themselves into a file that had to be finished by the morning. But when I grew up I knew the truth. About the women who were fucking the higher ups for a raise. Or the older men using the office computer to download porn of young boys and girls. I snorted and turned my head back to face you. You had been watching me when I was off in my own little world. I smiled and licked my lips. You turned red. You were very cute. So, where were we going Mister? To a cheap motel that charges by the hour? Or maybe to your own house, would you take that risk sweetheart? The risk of your wife coming in and seeing us? Don't deny it. I saw the ring on your finger as you slipped your hand into your pocket to take it off in secret. I notice these things and it makes these...meetings...so much more fun and entertaining. Knowing that the one you promised yourself to for the rest of your life just doesn't do it for you anymore. I bet it was good in the beginning, soft and happy sex. But now...you'd much rather be fucking someone else. You're angry now. Your fingers almost white on the steering wheel as you take the next turn a little bit harder then necessary. I leaned forward into the section between the two front seats, stretching my arms. You want me to blow you while you drive Mister? Want me to jerk you off while we go? Hm, Mister? Want to stop the car and fuck me right here? In the middle of the street where people can see us through the cracked windshield? Want to drive a little bit faster in anticipation of what you're going to do to me when we get to wherever we're going? How about it Mister? Want me to make this ride a little more fun? The End |